A Burnt Memory: Leashed
by PrInCeSsFBi
Summary: Michael wasn't here and Neal need to look after Henry or Hank or who ever he went by. White Collar/Royal Pains/Burn Notice crossover


**Disclaimer: I do not own White Collar, Royal Pains, or Burn Notice**

**A/n: Been working on this for a few months. Neal's point of view. This is one of three pieces that all interconnect involving the characters from all three shows. I'm playing with the idea of what would happen if Neal, Hank, and Michael knew each other. The other two are in my profile with different point of views and different scenes of this event they all are remembering.**

**Leashed**

The New York air was chilled and wet but the sky had refused to let the rainfall on the tall skyscrapers. The colors once so beautiful were gray and ugly. Neal needed color. He wasn't the only one feeling the miserable weather either apparently because Peter had called earlier in the morning and given Neal the day off.

Naturally that meant Mozzie having breakfast, lunch, and dinner drinking about every bottle of wine that Neal owned.

"This morning Clayton Gardner of the Gardner foundation died while in surgery. The doctor, Henry Larson." Neal's head shot up from his sketching "Is being investigated for negligence by the demand of the Gardner family. No further comments have been made Doctor Larson."

"Typical hospital bureaucracy," Mozzie said pouring more wine into his glass. But Neal wasn't paying attention as he stood, turning the volume of the television up.

No no no. They had said his name. Not Hank. Henry. The stupid report had said his name on television.

"In other news New York firemen," The news reporter went on not even realizing she had just dropped the biggest bomb on Neal Caffrey in a long time sending the reputable suave con man into an absolute panic. Neal slammed the television off, spinning so sharply on his heel that Mozzie jumped nearly toppling over his glass.

"Mozzie," Neal said his voice shaking as he searched for a piece of paper and a pen. His hands knocked over everything they touched making his search harder than it needed to be but when he finally found what he was looking for he all but threw them at Mozzie after writing a name down.

"Who's Evan Larson?" Mozzie followed Neal as the younger man ran to his hidden place behind the painting.

"You need to find him and get him and his brother to leave the city as soon as possible." Was all Neal was willing to express, his mind not putting thoughts into words as easily as it should. He was panicking. Neal tossed Mozzie the entire folder before leaving the painting open. He was really panicking as his carefully sewn edges were fringing at a massive rate that got Mozzie's attention enough to put his drink down.

"So let me get this straight, Neal," Mozzie said turning serious and peering over Neal from over his glasses. "You want to me just walk up to some guy and 'suggest' he takes a family vacation."

"Using Dennis O'Mailley."

"Neal." Mozzie balked but Neal didn't have time. Hank didn't have time. They had said his name on air, damnit! "Neal you never use Dennis."

"Exactly."

"So you just want me to throw away the best alias _unknown_ to man on some guy."

"Yes, Mozzie," Neal yelled. Mozzie looked at him for a moment, his eyes trying to decipher what had physically changed the Neal he knew into this panicked man in front of him. Neal slumped his shoulders looking at Mozzie. "Please Moz. You have to trust me."

Mozzie stared at him for a moment before nodding.

"I'll see what I can do."

And that was it. Neal paced frantically trying to think of what to do next.

He could find Michael. Michael would be calm taking a yogurt break to figure out what to do. He looked after Neal and Henry. If he went through the right channels he could… but that would mean cutting his anklet. He couldn't let Peter in on this one. If he wanted to stay he couldn't have someone he was so closely connected to, to be shifting through bundles of red tape only to find a confidential file even the head of the FBI couldn't get into. He would never see Mozzie again. Peter. June. Anybody.

That'd mean Neal would have to do it himself. Neal had worked like a mad man, his fingers slamming onto the keys of his laptop. He was going to have to burn his laptop, he thought making Neal sigh. It had been a while but he got around the firewalls and channels with the same stealth he used in his best cons as his fingers dragged Henry through the mist of Siberia and then Moscow and then happily in Macedonia. Anywhere that would give Henry time to get out of the city. When he was finished and had transferred the necessary files, Neal dropped the laptop off his balcony.

Neal stopped catching himself in his nervous give away. A habit only Kate had seen and possibly Peter. His hand rested over his abdomen and his skin felt hot through his shirt. He raked his hands through his hair, staring down at his stomach. His mouth was dry. He hadn't thought about that in a long time. If he was being honest, which he wasn't, he didn't remember. He couldn't tell Henry or Michael. They were tough but he could see. If they knew it would kill them. He suspected Michael knew but not a lot. A few nightmares or flashes. But Neal remembered it all.

Neal walked over to the mirror, lifting his shirt high enough to see his ghost against the normally smooth skin. He had passed it off as a botch job of appendicitis and anyone who would have questioned it knew Neal well enough to know to let it go. Still his hand trembled just as he let his fingers grace over the risen pale pink scar. The city sounds slowly drowned out into loud shouts and screams of pain that hurt Neal's ears, making his mouth dry and throat sting.

_The loud bang sounded from nowhere and he was thrown backwards. The force of the ground threw his entire self into pain as if he had been kicked. He looked down, despite his better judgment, and cried out at the large gapping hole on his side. Voices were coming from above him, a shadow hover over his head. Intense fear captured him as he tried to cling out past his gun. A foot swung out and kicked his hand away before there was a sharp pull by his legs. They dragged him out of the sun and he tried to pull from their grasps, his nails scrapping the dirt. He tried to call out for Mike or Henry but his voice only made pathetic cries that didn't sound human to his ears. Suddenly the dirt turned metal and he screamed out as they dragged his body down the stairs of the warehouse by his legs, his bullet wound screaming at him. There was just screaming. Everyone was screaming._

Michael had had the most experience and the discipline out of the three of them, which made him the obvious leader of the group. That didn't mean that Neal had to make it any easier for him. He had been just out of high school and on top of the world and he had gotten through training without becoming a robot. He was determined to stay that way.

"_Remember Neal," Henry smiled form his perch, headphones propped off one of his ears. "Seen but not remembered."_

_Neal rolled his eyes and put his gun to a hip holster and fake badge on his belt. _

"_I'm sure it's just a bunch of bums."_

"_Be careful." Michael said but Neal slammed the door closed. Henry chuckled at Michael's exasperated expression._

But sometimes robots have better judgment than arrogant twenty year olds. He had panicked and he was panicking now. Even now he ducked his head in shame, his face flushing in embarrassment. It was something he never let happen again but he had still been green. He could have handled the situation better. He could have fought harder. He could have not gotten shot. He could have…

_Stop it._

Michael had knocked that right out of him as soon as it manifested.

_Mike turned his head slightly to see Henry already leaving from his sniper perch and hurry down the hill with his medical bag. Neal fell forwards and Michael caught him, cursing at the amount of blood pooling from the kid's stomach._

"_I…I'm going to…b…bleed to…death," Neal groaned having seen Michael's expression as if it sealed his fate. Michael was never wrong. _

_He shook again, the violent chills attacking his whole body despite the desert air. Michael grabbed his face, his glasses gone from his face and his expression suddenly very focused. _

"_Listen to me, Neal. Neal! Listen." Michael shouted. Neal looked up at him, shaking beneath his friend's gaze and clinging to the pressure. He felt that. Feeling was good right? "I am not going to let you die."_

_Neal didn't get a chance to respond as Michael looked around before throwing Neal over his shoulder, the blood warming through his shirt and to his skin making him sick to his stomach. _

"_We have to get him somewhere inside," Henry shouted after him as they made their way to the car. _

Neal gritted his teeth. Henry was a good guy. He was the best of them. He didn't deserve…Michael and he had worked so hard to get Henry back home that…It wasn't fair. None of it had been fair. Even now Neal couldn't wrap his head around about how fast everything he had known and accepted had been ripped away. Now he was stuck not able to do anything when Henry needed him. He couldn't contact Michael and he couldn't see Henry or Hank or whatever he went by now. He didn't even know Neal was in the city. It irritated Neal at the best of times to know something the others didn't. He could kill a man forty six different ways. He never would but the knowledge was there. And the only people who knew were faceless no ones who hadn't bothered looking for him and Michael and Henry.

His loft suddenly felt claustrophobic. He had to get out. His hand itched to unlock his anklet and throw it off the balcony with his laptop. He was "leashed" and out of commission. He never wanted that.

_Neal screamed as he twisted in Michael's grasps, his grip remaining firm as Henry continued to clean the wound. _

"_Oh God," he hissed between his clenched teeth as Henry's usually gentle fingers felt like their were alit with fire. He heard Henry apologize and then order Michael to keep him still. He wasn't being helpful. No he needed to be helpful because Henry was a good guy. He had to…_

_Neal let out a long scream again, fighting against Mike's hands. He turned and buried his face in the older man's arms to silence his pains. _

He had a life in New York with Mozzie and June. Peter. He would come back but the moment he was free, the moment the teether around his ankle was released he was going to find Michael. Find his other family.

He had one more thing to do. Michael wasn't here. And Neal needed to look after Henry. Neal pulled his cellphone out, stabbing the number in with such lack of grace that his normal charming handsome face looked rash and desperate. It rang once before the voice on the other end picked up.

"Boris," Neal said with a smile but his voice was tight with fear that wasn't hidden well. "I need to ask you for a favor."

**a/n: Reviews make me warm and fuzzy inside. GO READ THE OTHERS! **


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